


Ain't That A Heat

by Shironu



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Begging, Bondage, F/M, I just wanted porn, Light BDSM, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Other, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), attl, eventual spicykustard, kustard - Freeform, light edging, red is mean, sans likes it tho, writing is hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23342302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shironu/pseuds/Shironu
Summary: This is just self-indulgent porn starring nilchance's "Ain't This The Life" Sans and RedWhich are written terribly out of characterSans starts feeling a little warm.Surprise it's yet another heat fic.
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 125





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [ain't this the life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319578) by [nilchance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/pseuds/nilchance). 



> This was written between two and six am during a bad few days of insomnia.
> 
> I just want sans to get wrecked.  
> Maybe I'll attempt chapter two if people like it?
> 
> also it lost all formatting when i posted it so  
> maybe i'll fix that later  
> \-----  
> fixed some errors!

Fuck, maybe he should’ve stayed home today, and have Red show up at his place. Yeah, sure, when he first stepped out of the house it had felt nice. Clear skies, nice breeze, flowers blooming, birds singing. A perfect day by any account. He didn’t even notice anything was off until after his and Edge’s regular meetup, when he was heading towards the bus station. He’d just blamed the heat for lingering a little too long against the edgelord’s side.

(A gloved hand over his, a finger tilting his chin back, the smell of fancy soap, the soft puff of breath against his teeth..)

But now...now it felt like the afternoon sun was sitting just inches from his bones, threatening to crack them open and get at the boiling marrow within. Each step was becoming progressively more difficult, and he could feel the sweat dripping off of his skull, dotting the sidewalk below with a trail of blue that lead all the way back to the bus station. He’d shrugged out of Red’s jacket as the bus had pulled into the stop, uncomfortable with how the fabric was clinging to wet bone. It didn’t help. (uncomfortable with how it felt like he was being stared at, but when he looked, the only one glancing his way was a rabbit monster at the back..) Thank the fucking stars Red and Edge lived so close to the bus stop...if it were any further, he’d have called Red to pick him up.

(That was a lie, he would’ve found some shady spot to sit in and suffer until Red came looking for him for not showing up. Shady bastard probably would’a found him in moments, probably had some tracker on him somewhere.)

The shade of their porch was a relief against burning bone. It wasn’t enough to snuff the embers flowing through his marrow, but it was enough for him to rest his forehead against the door as he pulled the key from his inventory. The flaming skull keychain caught the glare of the sun, mocking him. No doubt that Red had different thoughts in mind when he’d attached the damn thing.

The air of the house was even better than the shade of the porch, quickly cooling the moisture still dripping from his skull. His sockets slid closed, a quiet sigh escaping through his teeth. Thank the stars he’d worn one of the shirts Red left over at their place, the edgy black hid the stain of magic better than most of his. It didn’t prevent it from clinging to his ribs and spine, however, making the joints of his vertebrae itch. Maybe Red would let him grab a shower before ratting him out to Paps and Edge.

“you look like someone just tried to drown you in antifreeze.” Speak of the shark-toothed devil.. Sans opened his sockets, eyelights flicking over to the couch where Red was shoving a book none-too-subtly between the cushions. Huh, guess scotsmen were out this week, and pirates were in.

“doubt anything’d freeze out there. I thought hotland was the only volcano around for a few hundred miles.” He groaned, flopping down onto the couch and outright ignoring how breathy his voice sounded. The fabric felt rough under him, almost itchy...eh, probably from the sweat. He’d go get that shower in a minute.

Red rose a brow at that, looking skeptical. “volcano? it’s seventy fuckin’ degrees. wha-” Then the smell hit him.

Oh.

Sans just watched as Red tumbled through emotions he didn’t care to decipher (he was getting too hot again, the shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his ribs, it made his spine itch,) before Red’s grin stretched into something devious and pretty. (And fuck if his tongue wasn’t suddenly manifested...pavlov’s dogs don’t have shit on him.)

“what’s that look for?” A certain amount of caution and suspicion was always good when dealing with Red. And were it anyone but Sans, he’d also advise staying ten feet away at all times, avoiding eye contact, and possibly getting a better health insurance package.

“you’ve never gone into heat before, have you?” Red practically purred, still eyeing him like Sans had just given him a box of explosives and the key to Gaster’s car.

Sans’ eyes widened at that, a cross between realization, mortification, and embarrassment rising in the form of a deep blue over his face. Fuck, no wonder he felt like his marrow had been replaced with fire, why that monster was staring on the bus, and why his bones seemed more sensitive to touch. 

(He’d started feeling it while with Edge, had he smelled it too? No wonder he hadn’t wanted to leave Edge’s side, hadn’t wanted him to stop touch-)

“ya alright there, sweetheart?” Red purred against the side of his skull, making him blink back from his thoughts. Fuck, how long had he spaced out? He took a slow breath, silently willing away the flush over his cheeks as best he could. “nothin’ to be ashamed about, Sansy. See, when a monster reaches a certain age-”

“fuck you.” The instant reply, without any real..heh..heat in it. He ran his hand over his face, rubbing over his sockets. “I guess I should be relieved it was the damage to my soul preventing heats.” He didn’t have to say ‘instead of Gaster’. He didn’t have to say ‘instead of the medication’. Red could read him even easier than the Judge these days.

“want to call Paps and let him know you’ll be here a few days?” That damned grin is still in place as Red leans in against Sans’ side, the blunt of his teeth lightly brushing against Sans’ cervical vertebrae. It sends a sharp shiver down his spine, and his hands move to grip at the edge of the couch cushion when he feels Red’s breath rolling down over his clavicle. 

“what makes you so sure I’m staying here?” His voice wasn’t quite as even as he would have liked it to be, but he doubted Red would notice. (He noticed.) The dark chuckle against the side of his skull really shouldn’t be making him hotter.

“ya really wanna ride this out in front of Paps?” Says Red.

Sans grimaced at the idea, shaking his head. “good point.” 

“exactly. So you message Paps while you still have the mind to do it. I’m gonna grab some water bottles. You look like a fucking gatorade commercial.” Red said, before immediately dodging the couch pillow thrown at his head. 

\-------

In not-so-short order, Paps had been messaged, Red had gathered up some water bottles and some snacks, and Sans had gone to shower off, leaving Red in Edge’s room. If he used the moment to kick his shorts and shirt off to a corner of the room, and send a few heat-related puns Edge’s way, who could blame him? 

He was just setting his phone down when the door opened, revealing a flushed and heavily breathing Sans leaning against the doorframe, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and slipping just a little more with each small movement. His face was flushed, his eyelights had grown fuzzy, and his joints were dusted with a powder blue glow.

Sans felt like there was a fire deep in his soul, spreading outward through his marrow, into each phalange, vertebrae, and rib. He never realized just how apt the term ‘heat’ was. Even turning the shower as cold as it would go didn’t help. The water flowing down over his ribs had felt nice, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted..no, needed, something else. Something more. (He needed Red.)

“lookin’ a little hot under the collar there, sweetheart.” The smug bastard. Sans just narrowed his eyes, pushing himself off the doorframe and raising his favorite finger Red’s way. Of course, said smug bastard just smirked, before a small *ting!* rang between them. A second later, Sans found himself flying across the short space, landing back on the plush sheets with several creative expletives that gave some of Red’s a run for their money.

No sooner than Sans could get his arms under him to sit up, Red was over him, taking his wrists and shoving them down to either side of his head, using his strength and weight to keep him pinned back against the egyptian cotton. Normally something that simple would just pass with some snark trading before Red shoving his tongue down his throat, but now? Now Sans felt his magic surge almost immediately, slamming down into his pelvis in record time. And of course, Red was in the prime position to watch every micro expression cross over his face, which meant, even without the bright glow between them, he knew immediately.

“heh, little riled up there, sweetheart~?” Red purred,his grin sharp, mean, and pretty, and damned if that wasn’t helping any of Sans’ problems right now. Both hands curled to flip him off again as he leaned up, crushing his teeth against Red’s, his tongue immediately snaking out to deepen the kiss. Of course Red was only too helpful there, giving as much as he took, devouring the nearly silent little noises escaping Sans. The heat was making it hard for him to be quiet.

Red only pulled back when Sans was a flushed and panting mess under him. His eye lights had gone fuzzy again, and there was a slight tremor under Red’s hands. Fuck, what Red wouldn’t give for a camera right now. Not that Sans gave him permission. He’d just have to burn the image into his mind. “yeah, there you go. Don’t worry honey, we’ll take good care of you.~” That purr was back against the side of his skull, all smugness and vicious delight.

“f-fuck..would you shut up and just fuck me already?!” He growled out, yanking once more against the iron grip holding his wrists to the bed. He’d been dealing with this burning for nearly two hours now, his ribcage felt like it was going to melt at this rate. It was getting hard to think over the burning, throbbing need, both in his chest and between his legs. He could already feel a wet spot growing under his coccyx, dying the expensive cottons a deep cerulean.

His growling was cut short as Red rolled his hips down, slowly dragging his cock back and forth over the burning slick of Sans’ cunt. His head fell back against the mattress with a poorly muffled moan, pleasure racing up through his spine. Fuck, everything was so much more sensitive. Red had barely touched him and he was already so fucked up.

“what’s the hurry pretty? We’ve got all night~” Red punctuated the last two words by slowly dragging the tip of his cock from his entrance to his clit, drawing large, lazy circles around the bundle of nerves, before dragging back down and repeating the motion. 

The noise Sans made is one he’ll deny under threat of dusting, and one that Red would treasure. Red really needed to bring up cameras later, maybe send Edge a nice little video teaser before he gets home. No doubt he’d be neck deep in paperwork when he gets it. He’d spend hours flustered at the office before racing home, barging in on them-

Red was too lost in his momentary little fantasy that he missed the change in Sans’ eye lights.  
His legs rose, quickly wrapping around Red’s waist and yanking him down, forcing Red’s cock to bury itself to the hilt. “O-oh fu-!” They both exclaimed in near perfect unison, Red doubling over, hands tightening to bruising around Sans’ wrists. Sans arched up from the mattress with a loud cry, tears stinging at the corners of his sockets. Finally, finally! His legs tightened around Red’s waist as the orgasm rolled through him, dousing the fire raging in his marrow just a bit.

He was still trembling slightly as he regained enough sense to look up, and..oh. Red was panting, his shoulders shaking lightly, and glaring down with those hellfire eyes, and that same manic grin that he’d seen in the alleyway of Grillby’s. It was one of those things that shouldn’t make him hot, especially right after an orgasm, but-

“..hope you enjoyed that, sweetheart.” came the low growl. Red had managed to hold off his own orgasm by the skin of his damned teeth. His hands were being moved, pushed back towards the headboard as something cool and soft wrapped around his wrists, just below the collar wrapped there. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from Red’s, but he already knew how sturdy the cuffs around his wrists were. If they could hold Red, there was no chance for Sans to be slipping out of them. Red’s hands came back down, one wrapping around his hip, while the other moved to curl around the vertebrae of his neck. He wasn’t squeezing yet, just slowly dragging his thumb over the bones there, watching as Sans swallowed with a dry click.

“cuz thats the last one you’re getting until you beg.”

The words barely had time to filter through his heat/post-orgasm addled mind before Red started up a brutal pace, slamming in hard and deep, those hellfire eyes never leaving his as he arched off the mattress. The cuffs were a slight help there, providing some leverage, something to pull against, to grip as Red wrecked him, delighting in every ragged moan and pleasure-filled cry torn from his throat.

It wasn’t long before he could feel his second orgasm building, that tightness winding further and further against the base of his spine. He felt his toes curl, his wrists straining against the leather, so close--

Which is when Red stopped on a dime, pulling completely out of that dripping heat, that twisted grin back in place. He only chuckled at the tortured sound dropping from Sans’ parted teeth, how Sans arched and pulled with his legs, trying to pull Red back. “want something, sweetheart~?”

Fuck, he really needed to get cameras put up in here. Sans trying to glare at him while fuck-drunk, all flushed and drooling and gasping for breath, trembling, was just making his soul do these little flips. Not that he’d ever tell anyone that.

“f-fuck you..” If there was any real heat to that statement originally, it was lost as his voice cracked, Red’s finger slipping down to too-gently circle his clit.

“if you insist~.” Red purred, before leaning in to claim Sans’ mouth once more as he slid too-slowly back into that slick, twitching heat. Sans broke the kiss with a broken curse as he hilted once more, his fingers still drawing slow, lazy circles around his clit. He bit back a whimper as he arched and squirmed, trying to roll his hips down against the cock buried in him, but Red kept him still with unfortunate ease.

“f-fuck..m-move!” He whined against Red’s ribs, resting his forehead against his collarbone. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, not after the punishing pace before.

“ask me nice~.” came the words against the side of his skull, he didn’t have to look to know Red’s grin was sharp enough to put a razor to shame. He didn’t need to look to feel how those fingers pressed down and ground against his clit, making his hips buck up against Red’s hold.

“fuck- please! please, Red!” Oh stars he could feel how Red’s grin grew against his cervical vertebrae, the self-satisfied purr resonating through the bones.

“good boy~”

Then suddenly he was on his side, one of his legs thrown up over Red’s shoulder. He felt Red drag out slowly, those hellfire eyelights catching and holding his gaze, just as he slammed back in to the hilt. Red immediately set a brutal pace once more, each thrust hitting the back of his magic, grazing along that perfect spot within him that had him crying out and clawing at the headboard. 

Red was hardly quiet either, filling his auditory canal with noises that were nothing short of pornographic. “f-fuck sweetheart, you feel so fucking good around my cock..bein’ so good for me..so hot, so deep..” Sans felt his cunt tightening at Red’s terrible dirty talk. Gods he was so close again...he just..he needed- “but now I wanna hear you sing...cum for me.” Sharp teeth sank in against his clavicle, bruising the bone and ripping the orgasm out of him as he screams cries out. He vaguely registered Red’s curse before feeling him thrusting in to the hilt, following him right off the metaphoric edge.

(They can both get off the literal one later)

It feels like it takes a lot longer for his mind to reboot than it usually does. By the time he’s even half aware of his surroundings, Red’s already grabbed a towel and cleaned him off. Funny how Red didn’t seem to think to remove the cuffs from his wrists though..

“still with us sweetheart?” He could already hear the smirk in his voice. Sans doesn’t even bother opening his sockets, instead just flipping him off with both hands as he tries to remember how to function. Of course that only earns him an amused chuckle. “Good, ‘cuz that was just round one. Round two..”

There was the slam of a door downstairs, then heavy steps against the stairs.

“..starts now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge comes home early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one is gonna get a rewrite after I finish this thing. It was written when I was sleep deprived as fuck.
> 
> I think I also need to mention this is set during a time period where the trio are pretty well established with each other. This isn't edge and sans' first time in bed, i'm leaving that one to Nilchance.
> 
> Comment if you see anything I missed in corrections.

Sans was still pulling the last wispy strands of his thoughts back together as the door swung open. He was sure they made a hell of a sight to walk in on, if Edge’s momentary pause was anything to go by. (That so-subtle pause in his movements, his eyelights contracting, flaring as they took in the sight of the pair on the bed, his bed)

Red was still kneeling on the bed at his side without a stitch of clothing to his bones, his joints and scars all flushed with the lingering glow of his namesake, looking far too much like the cat that got the canary. But that seemed to be Red’s default mode, annoyingly smug. Aggravatingly cocky. Which really, really shouldn’t do it for him, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to complain. (Not that it usually stopped him, but he wasn’t exactly running on all cylinders today.) Good thing he and Edge seemed to share that unfortunate kink, judging by the way Edge’s eyelights trailed over Red.

Of course, Sans was sure he did Edge’s libido no favors himself, still laid back over those soft sheets, flushed and panting lightly, his own joints alight in powder blue. Not that anyone was keeping score, but he’d definitely get bonus points for the cuffs still wrapped around his wrists, keeping his arms suspended above his head. He had to bite back the soft groan rising against his tongue as Edge’s eyelights moved to him, no doubt relishing the sight he made, seemingly helpless before them. (speaking of unfortunate kinks-)

Red, who can never pass up the opportunity to throw jet fuel on a fire, just smirked, casually letting planges skim down the inside of Sans’ femur, as if the movement wasn’t as calculated as the first move in chess. (Which Red usually sucked at, to Sans’ amusement. A dozen games, and the only one he’d won was when they’d both gotten drunk and handsy midgame, making Sans concede the game before railing him over the kitchen table.)

Sans couldn’t bite back the soft groan that time, the simple touch stoking the embers of his earlier heat back into flames, igniting the inferno within his soul once more. It was rising quicker this time, fed by Red’s too-light touches running along his femur, each stroke teasing just a little higher, drawing closer to the dripping magic between his legs. Fucker.

“Heya boss. Isn’t fishbitch gonna be mad at’cha for cuttin’ out early?” He’d probably sound bored to anyone else. Edge knew better, he knew Red better.

“She’s perfectly capable of handling things on her own for one afternoon. Besides, you were hardly subtle in your message.” Boots were being kicked off as he spoke, a jacket folded and set on the dresser. Still so controlled and patient, even as those blazing eyes remained on them, on Sans, who was finding it more difficult by the seconds to focus. Red had always been good with his hands, a knowledge which was NOT helping right now.

“M-message..?” The tiny, not-heat-afflicted part of his mind winced at the tremor in his voice. But that part of his mind was also having issues with how much noise he was making, how he couldn’t control his expression right now, how easy he was making this for Red.

That part of him also didn’t feel like his soul was melting from the inside out so it could shut the hell up.

“Figured you’d be missing your little lunch date, so I decided to let him know you were feeling a little hot under the collar.” Red said, flashing something- his phone- in front of Sans’ face for a second. He caught a glance of the message screen for a short moment, before Red’s thumb taps twice against a button on it’s side. The messages disappear, replaced by flushed blue, fuzzy eyelights, and a pleading expression he doesn’t even recognise on himself at first. “Oops.” As if he hadn’t done that on purpose. As if his phalange wasn’t hovering over the button once more. “That alright?” Barely audible, as if convincing himself Edge wouldn’t hear him not being an asshole for all of two seconds.

Red had always been weirdly careful about stuff like this. So had Edge. He knew a word would end everything. That Red would make the phone disappear, that it wouldn’t be brought up again. ...But -fuck- if the idea didn’t make his soul pulse hard against his ribs. His heat-addled brain wasn’t doing him any favors either, spinning dirty thoughts and fantasies in the same two seconds it took Red to ask. (Red and him watching the video later, positions reversed, mirroring every motion. Sending pictures back and forth on the nights he stayed at home.  _ Sending Edge videos while he was at work. _ ) 

He could pretend the thought didn’t make his cunt throb when he wasn’t in heat. He was great at pretending things didn’t affect him. Denial was his middle name, right after The. These were all great excuses.

“W-what, get bored of..of just watching porn, now ya wanna direct?” It was getting harder to keep his voice steady, especially when he could feel Edge’s gaze sliding over them, as if leaving molten trails over his bones. (Or maybe that was just the heat again. Everything was so fucking hot.)

“Yep” Said Red, no shame. Sans was pretty sure Red didn’t know the meaning at the point. “Gonna be the next Kubrick with how pretty you look when you’re desperate.” Which earned him a half-hearted glare.

“Kubrick..m-more like Michael Bay meets Ron Jere-” Red had chosen that moment to trail the hand over his femur higher, phalanges slipping between his dripping folds with barely any pressure. “F-fuck!” His hips jerked up against those fingers, desperate, wanting,  _ needing _ more. But Red was a bastard, making sure he never got more than that teasing touch, never pressing any deeper.

“Don’t need to be either to make you explode Sansy.~.” He purred, before a thumb tapped against the screen. Sans watched as numbers popped up at the bottom of the screen, which was still trained on his face. He felt fucked up. He looked fucked up. He was trembling lightly, his breath coming in soft pants between the quiet moans he wasn’t able to bite back. His eyelights were so blown it was amazing he was even able to see. Red had barely touched him, Edge had yet to touch him, and he already looked so thoroughly wrecked. He couldn’t stop the soft wine that slipped past his teeth as he tugged lightly against the bindings on his wrists, arching, trying to leverage further into those probing fingers. “Fuck you look good like this..”

His usual snarked reply died on his tongue as one of those fingers pressed  _ in _ , making his toes curl against the fabric under him with a humiliatingly loud whine. That fire within his soul had started to spread outward once more, seeping through his marrow and flushing each joint anew with the blue of his magic. He wanted, he needed..

Gentle fingers tilted his chin up, blown eyelights meeting sharp crimson that practically radiated with clear amusement, and burned with hunger. At some point Edge had joined them, taking his side opposite Red. Judging by the unformed magic swirling in his pelvis, he’d probably been watching Red tease Sans nearly the entire time. 

“Color?” said Edge. And Sans had to take a second to remember what that meant.

“..g-green..edgelord, please..” a bit of a low blow, given he knew how weak to begging they both were, but fuck he needed more. Red hadn’t added anymore fingers, hadn’t moved faster, harder, nothing, seemingly content to watch him writhe, desperate. (If their positions were reversed, Sans would probably do the same, so he wouldn’t hold it against Red.)

He could see both pairs of crimson eyelights flare at the same time, and for a whole two seconds he thought they’d finally break and give him what he needed. If it had just been Red, he probably would have. He shouldn’t have doubted Edge’s restraint though. He already knew how strong it was. Edge’s hand went over to grip and tug back against Red’s collar, literally holding him back from jumping Sans’ bones, earning him one frustrated growl, and one desperate whine that Sans would deny under threat of dusting. (And he’s had plenty of those threats through his life.)

“In a moment. You need to drink first. Heats will dehydrate you as easily as any other monster.” He said, tone allowing no argument. Not that Sans didn’t try because, well, he’s Sans, but when his teeth parted, he found a water bottle being upended onto his tongue. Thankfully (regretfully) Red had decided to pull his finger out of his cunt, probably deciding that choking Sans was more fun when it was on his dick and not a mouthful of water. The bottle only pulled back after a third had disappeared down his throat, and damn if the cool water didn’t feel nice going down, taking the harshest edge off the burn within him.

The second the bottle was gone Red’s hands were back on him, tracing down over his ribs, circling around every vertebrae as they made their way back down towards his pelvis. That little part of Sans’ brain wondered where the phone had gone. There was a glow of familiar red off in his peripheral, but he couldn’t seem to pull his gaze away from watching Red’s hands smoothing over his iliac crests, pulling another heated moan from his throat as he pressed into their warmth.

It was a very good distraction from Edge reaching up to uncuff his wrists, those warm fingers gently tracing over his ulna and radius, checking for bruises. (Which of course there weren’t. Edge doesn’t use shoddy equipment. The cuffs are padded, the leather soft. Even Red rarely gets marks from them, and he’s sooner to break them than Sans.) Sans didn’t even realize his hands were free until they fell to fist against the sheets, Red’s fingers working against the slick between his legs once more and pulling a pleasured cry from his throat.

“If you’re done playin’ mother hen, maybe we could get to the actual fucking? Fun as it is teasin’ poor Sansy here, he ain’t the only one feelin’ too hot under the collar.” Red could be very patient when he wanted to be, especially with Sans, and  _ especially _ with Sans in their bed. But patience was not the name of the game today.

“One of us has to be the responsible one, and we all know it isn’t going to be you.” Said Edge, ignoring the way his brother’s eyelights rolled as he moved to sit back against the headboard, before stealing Sans away from Red’s touch and pulling him in to straddle his lap. Sans really looked lovely, in Edge’s expert opinion. Flushed and whining, begging, every joint burning with the color of his pretty blue magic, his cunt practically dripping as he ground down against Edge’s pelvis. “Think you can take us both tonight, Sans?”

  
The enthusiastic nod was all Red needed to slide in behind Sans, his hands falling to Sans’ waist, holding him in place as Red ground his cock in against his tailbone, further pushing Sans down into Edge. And by the filthy sounds dropping from Sans’ mouth, he had absolutely zero complaints about that. “Oh sweetheart, we’re going to  **wreck you.”**


End file.
